Tell me your story.
Such a simple thing, really.
Actually, it’s not.
But instead of me trying to tell you how to live your life, I’ll just listen.
Tell me your story.
Don’t give me your politics. I want to hear your story.
Your real life.
This isn’t about immigration, unless you are one. This isn’t about Washington, unless you live there. This isn’t about race relations, about what other people did or didn’t do to you.
Just tell me your story.
Could you do that?
I’m a private person in many ways. There are some parts of my story I won’t tell you. Thoughts I have, things I’ve said or done (or not said or not done that I should have).
When I was job-searching as an older adult, I had trouble with this. I didn’t come across well, or maybe my story wasn’t what a prospective employer wanted to hear.
There were times I was passed over for a job when I said to myself, “I could have done that job. I’m more qualified than the person they hired – and I’d have stayed longer than that person did.”
I’ve never felt comfortable tooting my own horn. Look at me, how special I am.
That’s not my story.
So, what is my story?
The secular and the divine
I’m a child of the living God.
That underscores everything I am. Employers don’t care about that, but that affects my mindset, the way I think, the way I work, the way I relate to people, the way I live my life.
Some days, like today, I’m home alone for a good chunk of the day. I’m OK with that. In fact, I like that. I don’t mind being alone for long periods of time.
I went for a jog this morning. Finished a Bible study lesson for tomorrow night. Had lunch. Am writing this blog now. May read a book or magazine later this afternoon.
That’s a good day for me.
As a child of the living God, I have time these days to read and meditate on things that matter. I do things that are meaningful. Not always, of course, but that’s the goal.
What else is my story about?
I’m a husband and father. And a son – my parents live about 2.5 hours away from here, and since they aren’t getting any younger, I need to make an effort to see them every so often. We saw them two weekends ago.
I’m a journalist. Even though I’m not working in the profession any more, I still think like one. And I write – just not for a specific publication. I am my own editor. I learned how to do that during my working days.
I try not to judge you. I have opinions, of course, as you do, but I try to respect you, whether I agree with your stances or not.
You won’t catch me using derogatory language in reference to anyone. If I ever do, I hope you’ll let me know.
This is the journalist and the Christian converging in me, the secular and the divine.
“Separation of church and state” is impossible. Oops – I made a political statement, which I said we shouldn’t do. But the divine influences the secular in a multitude of ways.
You know this is true.
I am a journalist and a Christian. I cannot separate them. This is who I am.
I’m not an expert in either role, but I’m learning. Still. I’ve been at it for awhile now. I worked as a journalist for about 30 years, and I asked Christ into my heart as a teenager, more than 40 years ago.
Am I tooting my own horn?
I’m not afraid to try new things.
When my long-term job at The Saginaw News ended, I took a job at Morley Companies in Saginaw, Mich. Morley, among many other things, contracts with various companies and governments to operate call centers.
I hate the telephone. I have to interrupt whatever I’m doing to answer it. I’m an introvert, so I’m not big on talking anyway.
Therefore, I worked in a call center, wearing a headset for eight hours a day. For two and a half years.
That forced me out of my comfort zone. I had to learn how to talk, at least a little bit.
A couple of months ago, I decided to volunteer with a local food pantry. One day I just showed up. A friend volunteers there but he wasn’t present that day. So I spent four hours with about a dozen people whom I’d never met before.
Introverts don’t do things like that. But I did. And I enjoyed it.
I serve there twice a week now. I guess they like me – they even made me a name tag. And I’m taking an online class to learn new skills that hopefully will help the organization in other ways.
But I’m not interested in padding the resume. It’s not like I do things just to do them.
During my working days, I enjoyed getting up in the morning. I liked my job. A lot. I was part of a team, and we got along very well together. We put out a great product, every day. Subscribers bought the newspaper, and interacted with it.
These days, I also enjoy getting up in the morning, but for different reasons. Many days I schedule activities to keep me busy and interacting with people. Since I’m an introvert and my stamina isn’t always strong (I had pneumonia a long time ago and I tire easily), I don’t mind the occasional day of rest. Sometimes more than occasional.
Attending a funeral of a family member recently, I talked with a cousin who lives in Washington state. I don’t see him very often. He asked me what I’m up to, and I told him I’m retired and enjoying being a volunteer.
“I’m tired of the rat race,” I said.
“I enjoy the rat race,” my cousin told me.
That’s cool, I said. And I meant it. He does enjoy the “rat race,” and he’s good at it. He owns a business that is thriving.
That’s his story.
And that’s mine.
We’re wired differently, even though we are related.
It’s all good.
The story continues.
What’s your story?